CHAPTER FOUR
‘Perhaps I’m more of an oil painter,’ said Wil, admitting defeat with his attempt at watercolour.
‘Watercolour techniques take time to learn. You’ve done quite well for your first eight attempts.’
Wil laughed at Delphie’s exaggeration.
‘But next time, I’ll let you have a go at painting with acrylics.’
‘I’m up for that.’
He glanced outside. A golden hour glow shone into the barn. They’d both lost track of the time.
‘I should go and let you get some proper artwork done,’ he said.
‘Your hands are covered in paint. Come over to the farmhouse to clean up before you go.’
Leading Wil outside and over to the farmhouse, she gazed up at the approaching twilight. ‘The skies are beautiful here.’
‘You should paint a night sky filled with stars.’
‘I’m more of a people painter.’
‘Add a couple dancing under the night sky,’ he suggested.
Delphie liked that idea. ‘That would look wonderful if I could capture the atmosphere of the stars and the twilight’s glow.’
‘Try. You’re a talented artist.’
She loved the way Wil bolstered her confidence. It made her realise that none of the men she’d dated ever did that.
‘The kitchen is through here,’ she said .
Wil followed her and washed his hands at the sink. ‘The watercolour washes off easily.’
‘No one will ever know what you’ve been up to.’
He looked at the colourful splashes on his blue top.
‘Though I should’ve let you borrow an apron to protect your clothes,’ she said.
Wil brushed aside any concern. ‘Proof that I gave my artistic urges a go.’ Other urges surged through him. The urge to invite her to have dinner with him. To tell her how lovely she was and that he enjoyed being in her company. Instead, he dried his hands and got ready to leave.
‘Are you heading back to the dance studio?’
‘No, I thought I’d go home and work there, jot down ideas for choreography.’
‘I’m going to make a light and easy dinner. You’re welcome to join me.’ Her heart raced as she found herself stepping into territory she hadn’t intended.
For a moment, she thought he was going to say no, make some excuse, and part of her hoped he would. Then she wouldn’t have to deal with the excited beating of her heart, and could have dinner and then work on her paintings again. A safe world. A world she could control without blushing and inviting feelings she’d been determined to ignore.
‘On one condition,’ he said. ‘I help you cook dinner.’
‘Deal.’
Wil smiled and looked around. ‘What will we make? ’
Delphie opened the well–stocked fridge. ‘Luckily, I picked up groceries when I was in the main street earlier.’
Wil saw a jar of pasta in the kitchen, peered in the cupboards and began to take charge. ‘I could make my special pasta. You have all the ingredients — plenty of tomatoes, peppers, herbs and spices.’
‘You cook?’
‘I live on my own. I eat out quite often when I’m busy, but I’ve learned to make a few dishes that are easy and tasty.’
Delphie washed her hands. ‘What can I do to help?’
‘Start cooking the pasta while I make the sauce.’
Working around each other, moving as if they’d been choreographed, they prepared dinner and sat down at the kitchen table to enjoy their meal.
‘Mmmm, this is so tasty,’ Delphie enthused.
Wil smiled at her, pleased she was enjoying it. ‘I hope you’ll come along to the opening night I’m having at the studio. I’ve invited a few dancers, and others from the industry.’
‘When is it?’
‘A couple of nights from now. Around seven.’
‘Yes, I’ll come along. Though I don’t know if I’ll have any other paintings finished and framed by then.’
‘Don’t rush your work. The paintings hanging up are wonderful. I keep admiring The Sweetest Waltz. It’s my favourite. Oh, and I’ve added the wall of twinkle lights that you suggested.’
Delphie smiled, happy that he loved the painting and had used her idea for the lights .
After dinner, Wil got ready to leave. Delphie walked with him to the front door. They stood outside the farmhouse for a moment, breathing in the night air.
‘Thanks for dinner,’ he said.
‘I hope your new choreography ideas go well tonight.’
‘I’m planning a routine with a tango element. Do you tango?’
‘I used to love it. It’s so dramatic.’
Wil glanced at the barn aglow with twinkle lights inside. ‘Could I persuade you to try the routine with me? Just once. It’s easier with a partner.’
Delphie hesitated. ‘My tango moves are a bit rusty.’
‘I don’t believe that for a moment. Come on, dance with me, then you can get on with your painting.’
Delphie glanced down at her flat pumps. ‘I’m not wearing the right shoes.’
‘I’ll wait while you change into heels,’ he said, looking content to stand in the evening air.
Delphie hurried inside the farmhouse and up to her room. She threw her jeans and shirt off, grabbed a dress, put it on and stepped into a pair of heels suitable for dancing.
Running outside to join him, Wil laughed when he saw her.
‘That was quick.’
Delphie smiled and shrugged. ‘I really do need to work on slowing down, but sometimes it comes in handy.’
Walking together over to the barn, Delphie pulled the sheet on the floor aside .
Wil scrolled through his phone to find the music he’d been rehearsing to, then set it down on the table to play.
‘Ready?’ he said, taking her in hold.
‘What’s the first move?’
‘Follow my lead. It begins with a few traditional moves.’
They started dancing, slow, dramatic moves. Delphie followed Wil’s lead, adjusting when the steps picked up pace.
The music resounded through the barn, rising in tone and tempo, and Delphie was swept along in Wil’s routine.
She felt the lean muscles on his arms and shoulders as they danced together. The tension in his torso as he held her close to him. His strength was evident, but controlled, taking the lead in their tango.
‘Excellent,’ he said. ‘Now turn, spin, then come back to me in close hold.’
Delphie instinctively danced the moves as he’d hoped, and they finished the piece of choreography face–to–face, their lips a breath away from touching.
Wil resisted the temptation to kiss her, and instead spun her away from him, as if finishing with a flourish.
Letting go of her hand, he heard the tension release in his voice. ‘That’s all I’ve choreographed. As I said, I’m still working on it.’
‘I like the mix of staccato style with sweeping drama.’ Her heart was still thundering from the experience. Dancing with Wil affected her in so many ways, but she told herself that it was the effect of the dance.
Running his hand through his hair to clear his thoughts, he stepped away and took a deep breath. ‘I think the routine works up to that point. Thank you for indulging me.’
He picked up his phone, smiled and walked out to his car.
Delphie stood in the doorway of the barn and waved him off. An unexpected ache shot through her heart seeing him drive away. Sweeping aside any thoughts she had about becoming romantically involved with him, she walked over to the farmhouse to change into her comfy clothes. The night was wearing on, but there was still a couple of hours left before she’d go to bed. And the feelings he’d instilled in her needed to be worked off. She headed back over to the barn to work on her paintings.
Wil drove away and wished he hadn’t danced the tango with Delphie. The feelings he’d been trying to suppress surged through him, putting his heart in jeopardy.
Delphie was so sweet, but when she danced the tango, he could feel the fire in her ignite.
Instead of driving home, he continued on to the studio. Dancing with Delphie had given him so many ideas for the choreography. He wanted to work on the moves, burning up the dance floor, searing off the excess energy and excitement she’d sparked in him .
Delphie let herself be distracted. Instead of working on the paintings in the barn, she sat down at her artwork table and opened the sketch pad where she’d drawn Wil.
She started to smooth the rough sketch into a finished piece of line art that she then used as a template to draw on to a canvas.
Inspired from dancing the tango routine with him, she added flair to the figure, accentuating the muscles in his arms and shoulders. Tapering down to his lean torso and long, lithe legs, she then added the chiselled features of his handsome face, and swept her pencil lightly to emphasise the sensual curve of his hair from his forehead.
Years of working as a graphic designer had given her the ability to draw and design quickly, sometimes with details or impressionist lines.
Stepping back to gauge the canvas that was propped up on an easel, she nodded to herself. She’d captured the beating heart of Wil. In the painting, she reminded herself swiftly.
Selecting the acrylic paint colours she needed, she prepared her palette and began to paint. She painted a background from her imagination, based on seeing him dancing in his studio, grounding him on the dance floor, while adding elements that hinted of his studio. But she kept it understated with neutral tones so that the focus of the painting was on the figure.
The sleeves of his white shirt were rolled up to reveal his forearms, and it was unbuttoned at the neck to expose a hint of his chest. The dark trousers were class personified .
The canvas was a large poster–size enabling her to create details on the figure. The angle of his face as he gazed up at his outstretched hand, as if reaching for the stars, was perfect to highlight Wil’s blue eyes.
She painted fast, as if needing to express everything in a burst of creativity that took her well past midnight, when she decided to let what she’d painted dry and continue with a fresh eye in the morning.
Leaving the canvas on the easel, she turned out the lights in the barn and headed over to the farmhouse.
Wil was still dancing in his studio after midnight. The video cameras he’d set up for talking to other dancers and showing them choreography came in handy. He filmed himself dancing, and kept reviewing the footage, changing the steps to improve the routine.
Satisfied he’d achieved what he wanted, he switched the cameras and lights off and headed out.
Wil walked along to his car, checking his messages. He was surprised to see that he had several, all similar. One message from a dancer read: Thanks for the invitation, Wil. Another read: Looking forward to seeing your new studio . A third: I’ll be there with Gareth .
Part of him was pleased that so many dancers were coming along to see his studio, but now he had to cater for all these extra guests.
Getting into his car, he glanced at the bakery shop that was closed for the night. Maybe Catriona and Kian catered for party events. He planned to talk to them in the morning .
Wil walked along from the dance studio to the bakery shop the next morning.
Catriona and Kian were at the counter and smiled when Wil walked in. It was fairly busy. Catriona was serving a customer.
‘What can I get for you today, Wil?’ said Kian.
‘Do you cater for parties?’ The slight desperation sounded in Wil’s tone.
‘Yes, what did you have in mind?’
‘I’m having an opening night at the dance studio tomorrow. I invited several people. But one man wanted to bring someone else along, and I told him the more the merrier ...’
Kian laughed. ‘So it’s going to be a lot merrier.’
Wil nodded and looked concerned.
‘A buffet would be your best bet,’ Kian advised him. ‘We cater for parties and small wedding receptions.’
‘I know it’s short notice,’ said Wil.
‘It’s fine. I’ll arrange a buffet for around twenty or so guests.’ Kian sounded as if this was easily doable.
‘I have a kitchen at the back of the studio, and folding tables and chairs.’ When Wil had leased the premises, some of the previous items used in the old community hall were still stored at the back.
Kian wanted to have a look so he could start planning. He spoke to his wife. ‘Catriona, can you take care of things here while I go with Wil to the dance studio. I won’t be long. ’
Catriona smiled. ‘Yes.’ Then she continued to serve customers as Kian headed out of the bakery shop with Wil.
Bright morning sunlight created a warm glow in the farmhouse kitchen.
Delphie sat at the table eating breakfast. Beside her bowl of cereal topped with fresh fruit, she had her drawing pad and sketched dancing figures while she ate.
Kian stood in the dance studio admiring the artwork on the walls. ‘I love your paintings, especially this couple waltzing together.’
‘That’s my favourite. Delphie painted all of them,’ said Wil.
‘Wow! She’s really talented. I knew she was an artist, but these paintings are fantastic.’
‘She’s working on more paintings for me.’
‘Do you think she’d paint something for the bakery shop?’
‘I’m sure she would. Figures are her speciality.’
Kian nodded enthusiastically. ‘I’ll talk to her.’ Kian then concentrated on the buffet plan. ‘I take it that your guests are mainly dancers?’
‘Yes, or those working in the dance industry.’
‘I’ll come up with a menu to suit various tastes, but I’ll keep it light, sweet and delicious with a few savoury specialities.’
‘You’re making me hungry just thinking about it.’
‘Catriona and I will come along and set up two of those long folding tables you showed me. You won’t really need chairs. With a studio and floor like this, I’m betting there will be a whole lot of dancing going on.’
‘Yes, I’m planning to create choreography for other professional dancers while I’m taking time away from the city.’
‘It’s always wise to take a break sometimes, to set your compass on the right path again,’ said Kian. ‘Catriona and I did that a couple of years ago, then we opened the bakery shop and we’re loving it. Originally, we were both chefs working in a large restaurant in the city. That’s where we met, fell in love and decided we wanted our own business.’
‘It seems to have worked out well for you.’
‘Yes, but we needed that break, to take time to breathe a little.’ Kian smiled at Wil. ‘It sounds like you need that too.’
‘Do you ever miss the city?’ said Wil.
Kian shook his head. ‘The strange thing is, we both feel like we’re from the town now. Like we’ve always belonged.’
‘It’s a nice town.’
Kian nodded. ‘It’s a town and community that welcomes people into the heart of it. Folk help each other.’ Kian then turned the conversation back to Wil. ‘So don’t worry about the buffet. We’ll take care of everything. You concentrate on your dancing.’
‘I appreciate your help, Kian.’
Smiling, Kian left with a reassuring wave.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Wil then sat down next to his music system, put his dancing shoes on and began rehearsing a new routine he’d been dreaming about the previous night. Not a tango — a waltz. A romantic waltz.
Delphie was still drawing at the kitchen table when a call came through from Kian.
‘I saw the dance paintings in Wil’s studio. Would you consider painting something for the bakery shop?’
‘Eh, yes, but I mainly paint figures, people,’ she said.
‘Wil told me that. I don’t have a creative mind, but maybe you have an idea for something we could hang behind the counter to brighten things up.’
‘I’ll put my mind to it.’
‘Okay, I have to push on. I’m planning a buffet for Wil’s opening night. Apparently a load more people are turning up than he originally intended.’
‘Wil has invited me,’ she told Kian.
‘Well, dress to impress. It sounds like it’s going to be an exciting night.’
After the call, Delphie checked the bakery shop’s website and saw exactly what she needed. Flipping to a new page on her drawing pad, she used the photograph of Catriona and Kian standing behind the counter to begin sketching a rough outline.
The composition of the piece started to take shape. If she could portray Catriona and Kian working together, the counter filled with cakes and delicious items from the menu, it would be a talking point when customers came in.
Smiling to herself, thinking how pretty it would look painted in pastel pink and bright primary colours, she concentrated on the two figures. Both of them wore aprons to match the theme of the bakery shop. It would be lovely to paint this, even though sketching all those tempting cakes put her in the mood for a cup of tea and a biscuit.
She sketched cupcakes swirled with vanilla and strawberry frosting, a large chocolate layer cake, wedges of carrot cake sitting in the display, sandwiches filled with crisp green salad ingredients, and a bowl of fresh fruit with pears, bananas, grapes and bright shining red apples.
Catriona’s auburn hair and Kian’s light sandy hair blended well in warm tones that looked great in the photograph and would be ideal to paint.
Delphie took the sketch and hurried over to the barn to find a suitable size canvas. She’d bought a load of canvases in bulk and stored them in the barn. Each one was a stretched canvas over a wooden frame. They didn’t require framing and were ready to hang when painted.
She found the size of canvas she needed. Without going any further with her design ideas, she called Kian and told him what she had in mind.
‘That was quick work, Delphie.’
‘I checked the photos on your website and the idea sprang to mind. A painting of you and Catriona working at the counter, to hang behind the counter. It would be fun.’
Catriona was listening and chipped in. ‘We know you’re busy with Wil’s paintings, but put us on your list.’
‘I’ll do that,’ Delphie promised .
After the call, she started working again on Wil’s paintings, hoping to finish at least one to add to his wall for his opening night, especially if his party was going to be extra busy.
The remainder of Delphie’s day was a colourful flurry of painting and creativity, as was the following day, leading up to the excitement of the party night at the dance studio.